To Die In 7 Days
by Buck Tick - Rammstein
Summary: Mordecai and Rigby have somehow released a dragon from hell onto the earth. No pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Written by Buck Tick

It's day seven since the rise of the dragon. The world is full of tainted and abused, the dead and dying, the lost and forgotten. These wandering fall into the cracks of the earth and spiral downwards to the promise of the burning core, forever.

The wind is dangerously heated- like unexpectedly hot air that rolls into the room after opening a hot oven. This wind scortches the trees and kills the grass. It kills the birds. It causes the slow-moving snails to melt like snowmen.

Inhailing the warmth of the sky, the black dragon slips out from the darkness of space for a moment to breathe his gift of fire across the green world and those blessed to live on it. He lets out a thrilling cry, one which would burst wine glasses or shatter the eardrums of small children. But some are waiting out this terror in their homes, or work-places, passing the blame on one another as if it were a game of hot potato.

Singing a lully-lullaby, Pops wanders from wall to wall of the house, stopping and turning on his heels to go to the next wall, and repeating- like a rat in a maze. He sings and hums and laughs spontaniously, his lips bleeding horribly in each corner from being stretched so hard into a smile. Pretending so hard that every thing will be all right. In his hands he holds a page from a certain book from a certain storybook. He crumbles and folds and straightens out and uncrumbles the paper, laughing in the silence of the house, turning around at each wall. Stumbling, sobbing, barely sane.

From the safety of a tree, a bird flies, dies, and falls to the earth before Rigby's paws. The racoon looks down at it, his stomach queasy with dread. He tries to think of a logical reason to how they- he and his friend, the blue jay, have caused the ending of the world. But all he can think to say, turning his head to look Mordecai in his large, equally anxious eyes, is "uh oh."

With a mouth full of gleaming teeth, the black dragon glides along the edge of the galaxy; below him swims the Robin's egg-blue sky, followed by the grass and the soil of the earth, while above him the stars shiver and twinkle against the abyssal-black space of nothing.

"What did you do?!" shouts Benson over the chaos, his hands clamped tightly over his glass-orb head, fearing it may shatter.

Mordecai looks towards their boss, the gumball machine, and cringes inwardly. "Look," he calls over as the other comes closer. "It isn't our fault."

"Yeah. It was Skip." says Rigby. "He's the one that let us borrow the book..."

"No!" snaps Benson. He steps up to Rigby and jabs a finger into his chest. "You two morons are the reason there's-" he flings his pointing finger to the enourmous rip across the sky, "a rip in the sky!" he finishes.

"Dude!" shouts Mordecai, stepping forward with open wings. He shoves Benson away. "Step off."

"Step off?" repeats Benson breathlessly. He blinks once, twice. "Are you serious?" His voice lowers into a tone of hopelessness. "Yes...maybe I should just step back and let you two destory the world...It's what you've always wanted... Isn't it? It's why you two signed up for this job..." Benson turns and stops short, facing Skips as he skips over.

"Hey, that's not true!" yells Mordecai.

"Yeah!" says Ribgy. "We've fought for this park before, that should be enough proof for ya!"

"You can't blame us for everything just because you're too much of a coward to take the blame yourself!" taunts Mordecai fiercely.

Benson whirls around and raises a closed hand to punch the blue ray across the face.

"Don't give into the darkness." says Skips hoarsely.

Benson flinches and turns to the yeti.

Mordecai takes a step back, looking emotionally wounded. "Dude, he was seriously gonna smack the buh-jeezus out of you!" whispers Rigby to him.

"That's what the dragon wants you to do." explains Skips to Benson. "It spreads darkness."

"Look at this mess!" says Benson helplessly, finding no other way to express himself.

"Mordecai and Ribdy didn't cause this." says Skips firmly.

"Yeah," says Rigby. "It was that stupid book of dragons you loaned us.

"That's part of it." agrees Skips. He turns fully to Benson. "But the one who summoned the dragon from hell, is you, Benson."

._._._.

One week earlier...

(To Rammstein: Good luck.)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter by: Rammstein.

"Hey Benson, can we get the keys to the cart?" Mordecai asks as he walks into the kitchen.

Benson is leaning against the counter by the sink, trying to enjoy a cup of coffee. He squints his eyes at Mordecai, seeing Rigby creeping up behind him.

"No," he answers shortly. He blows the steam away from his mug and takes a dutiful sip.

"Aww, what?" Mordecai throws up his arms. "Come on, Benson!"

"What'd he say?" Rigby asks, tugging at Mordecai's feathers.

"Quit it, dude." Mordecai smacks him away. "He said no."

"Aww, Benson!" Rigby pouts. "That's not fair, we did all the chores and stuff. Why can't we borrow the cart?"

"Because," Benson says in an overly-calm voice, lowering the mug from his lips. "I said no."

"Benson, _please!" _Mordecai begs shamelessly. "We need it to go buy plants and stuff!"

"Plants?" Benson raises an eyebrow. "What on earth do you need plants for?"

"Muscle Man found this- Oww!" Rigby breaks off, glaring at Mordecai for punching him. He rubs his arm, saying nothing more.

"Thomas," Mordecai rushes out. "He needs some plants for some thing he's been working on."

"That doesn't sound like work," Benson says grumpily.

"Oh, it's tough, trust me," Rigby puts in.

"Whatever." Benson relents, pulls the keys from his pocket, and tosses them to Mordecai. "Just be bring it back before noon. I have a thing I'm working on_ also _that requires the cart."

"Sure thing, man." Mordecai nods and smiles. He grabs Rigby and they race out the door. "Thanks Benson!" They call in union.

Benson sighs and stares down into his coffee. He no longer wants it. He tips his mug into the sink and watches the dark brown brew swirl its way down the drain.

...

The warm morning sun shines down gleefully. With its delicate rays, it melts away the frosty dew clinging stubbornly to the grass that Mordecai and Rigby are racing across.

"Plants?" Rigby wrinkles his nose.

"Shut up, Rigby, it was the only thing I could think of. It's not like _you _came up with anything. Besides, Benson bought it and that's all that matters."

"I guess," Rigby huffs.

They reach the garage, the cart sitting idly on the pavement in front of it. Mordecai jumps into the driver's seat. Rigby dives through the back and lands beside him. The cart hums to life.

Mordecai buckles up, so Rigby does the same.

They peel out of the driveway with a squeeling of thin tires, tilting dangerous to the left before straightening out. They speed down the road to Muscle Man's house, the cool wind rushing against their faces, rustling fur and feathers.

"Dude, what if he doesn't show?" Rigby asks desperately.

"He'll be there." Mordecai's tone is finalizing.

Soon Muscle Man's trailer appears, and the cart swerves to a halt. Rigby makes it to the door first, pounding it with his fist.

"Muscle Man!" Rigby shouts.

Mordecai appears beside him. He shoves Rigby away from the door.

"Rigby, stop! He said he wouldn't go inside until we got here."

"Oh, right. So where is he?" Rigby looks around.

Mordecai checks his watch. It's 9:47am.

"We still have three minutes," Mordecai says unhappily.

"Three minutes 'til what, ladies?"

Mordecai and Rigby whirl around. Muscle Man stands behind them, his hands on his hips, a frown on his face.

"Dude, you're early!" Mordecai smiles.

"Yeah, bro." Muscle Man walks to his house. "This thing has gotten out of control. I don't think I can take it much longer."

"Don't worry, man, that's why we're here." Mordecai says determinedly.

Rigby nods with him.

The three of them step up to the door, and Muscle Man inserts his key. They hold their breath as he slowly turns the knob...

To Buck Tick: Hmmm... Good luck!


	3. Chapter 3

Written by Buck Tick

"Now remember," says Muscle Man firmly, pausing at the turn on the key. "Once we get inside, we grab it from behind, slide this gym bag-" he raises the bag "-over the head, then go to town with that baby. You go that?"

"Wait. We're actually going to take this into town?" says Rigby, giving Mordecai a cofused look. The blue ray punches him in the arm.

"Ready?" says Muscle Man, his ugly mouth spreading open in a lop-sided grin.

"Hm hm hm hm hm hm hm!" chant the racoon and the bird, bobbing their heads seriously.

"Whoooooooooo!" screams the Man, busting through the trailer door. The others follow quickly. Inside, the trio run around and scramble about in order to catch their prey, knocking over the flimsy card table and upsetting a pot of cold water from the stove. Rigby's foot slides in the wetness and he crashes against the side of the trailer. The animal leaps over Ribgy and starts sprinting.

"Shut the freakin' door!" yells Muscle Man.

Mordecai turns and throws his foot out towards the door, shutting it just in time. The creature halts abruptly and looks up at Mordecai with it's large eyes. Mordecai takes a cautious step back.

"Bam!" Rigby thumps to the floor, closing the gym bag around the creature. "Dude, what's the matter with you?" complains the racoon, looking at the bird as he carefully zips up the bag.

"Uh..."

"Scared of a little mouse?" taunts Mordecai. "Bwhahahahahaa!"

"Shut up..."

"So how did it get in here anyway?" asks Rigby as the three of them exit the trailer. He puts the bag on the back on the cart and ties it down with the rope provided.

"Hi-Fives thought it was a little stuffy last night so he left the trailer door open." says Muscle Man logically.

"Oh...okay..." says Rigby, disappointed.

"Where are we taking it?" asks Mordecai as he buckles up beside Muscle Man, who starts the engine. After doing a violet donut in the yard, Muscle Man replies, "We're gonna take it over to the woods and let it go."

"Dude, I didn't know you were so nice to animals." says Rigby.

The Man shrugs. "Starla brings the best out of me sometimes..." he says dreamily.

Mordecai smiles.

._._._.

Once they reach the woods, they pile off and Rigby unzips the bag, turns it over, and shakes it. "Out you go, little mouse! Go be free!"

Mordecai shouts out and slaps Rigby's hands. "You idiot, you might hurt it!"

"Oops..." Rigby looks down at the wounded mouse at his feet. It picks itself up and tries walking, but falls over. Mordecai nudges the racoon sharply. "Dude," he says quietly, "Muscle Man..."

The Man steps over and looks around. "Is he gone?" he asks.

"Yeah." says Rigby. "You just missed him."

"Which way did he-"

Mordecai points in a random direction towards the trees. "That way."

Muscle Man smiles, then throws his large arms around the other two, standing in the middle. He hugs them like this, and says, "It's nice to get to share moments like these with your bros."

Rigby and Mordecai chuckle gently, trying to sound happy, as the little mouse stumbles about at their feet.

"Well!" Muscle Man backs off and gets back into the cart. "Let's move out! I got some nuts waiting to be cracked!"

"Duuude..." Rigby screws up his face.

"What?" says Muscle Man. "It's the holidays. Everyone cracks nuts open with their Nutcrackers. My mom's gonna help me crack my nuts." When neither animal speaks, the Man shrugs and says, "Suit yourself Thought we could do it together... " He flashes them a hard smile and shouts, "Later!" then drives away.

"Dude, what are we gonna do with the mouse?" cries Mordecai.

"Dig a hole and bury it?" says Rigby boredly.

"But then it may come back to life and haunt us..." mutters the bird.

"Oh, yeah...that could happen..."

"What if...Uh...We take it to Eileen?"

Rigby shudders. "No way."

Mordecai bends down and picks up the mouse. He looks at it miserably. "It's in a lot of pain..." says the bird.

Rigby snaps his fingers. "Skips! I'm sure Skips would know what to do!"

"Skips always knows what to do." replies Mordecai. "But we have to do what's right... I think we need to put it down."

"Oh, like kill it?"

"...yeah. Go hand me that rock over there..."

"Well that's a waste..." The racoon grumbles, walking over to the selected rock. He stops and looks at Mordecai brightly. "Dude! I got an idea. What if we fed him to another animal? That way he wouldn't have to suffer, and the other animal wouldn't starve!"

"I guess that could work...But what kind of animal would be willing to eat a mouse?" Mordecai makes a face of disgust.

"I'm sure Skips has a book that tells us how the food chain works, and what animals eat what, or whatever." He says impatiently. When Mordecai gives him a look, he adds, "Why beat around the bush when we know who has all the answers? Do you want to spend all day trying to figure out what to do for ourselves?"

Mordecai sighs. "All right...fine...Let's go." The two walk along the grass in silence for awhile, then Mordecai speaks up. "If this doesn't work, you so owe me a milkshake..."

._._._.

While heading to Skips' house, the duo pass by the park building and Rigby at once spots Thomas as he heads up the steps. "Dude!" screams Rigby, dropping to all fours. He runs over to the goat, snatching something out of the grass as he goes.

"Um...hi, Rigby." says Thomas, looking at the racoon.

"Here." says Rigby, handing him a flower. A weed from the lawn.

Thomas takes it and looks at it in surprise. "What's-"

"It's your plant." says Rigby quickly. "You're welcome." The racoon bolts off of the porch and chases after Mordecai, who had been standing there waiting for him.

"Dude, what was that?" hisses the bird.

"His plant, remember?" snaps Rigby. "Now come on! Let's go find Skips..."

Thomas watches the two go, then looks at his flower, smiling a little. He turns and goes inside. Upon hearing the door open, Benson walks into the room, rambling off a chore list to who he thought would be Mordecai. He cuts himself off and looks at Thomas and, more importantly, at the flower in his hands.

"What is that?" asks Benson, pointing at it with his pen.

"It's my plant." Thomas replies, his face turning color. "Rigby gave it to me..."

"Oh..." 'So for once they were telling the truth...' thinks Benson. 'But why would they need a cart for that?' He shakes his head, dismissing the idea. "I won't ask," he says, looking his checklist. "Did you see the cart outside the garage by any chance?"

"Um..." says Thomas. "I think I saw Muscle Man-"

"Just forget it." Benson says, shoving past the goat to leave.

._._._.

(To Rammstein: This is fun.)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter by: Rammstein.

Skips is doing push-ups in the driveway of his house. Rigby stiffens with jealously, his eyes flicking up and down, counting, wondering how many he's done so far.

"Skips!" Mordecai calls, waving his hand. He quickly slaps his hands together, staring down into them, muttering "oops."

Skips, with a grunt, hefts himself up onto his feet. "Well, if it isn't Mordecai and Rigby," he says gruffily.

"Hey Skips, what's going on?" Rigby asks rather blandly.

"What do you have there?" Skips ignores Rigby, walking over to Mordecai.

"A mouse," Mordecai answers, carefully opening his hands to show Skips.

"What's the matter with it?"

"Mordecai smashed it with a gym bag. Probably snapped its spine or something."

"Shut up, dude," Mordecai elbows Rigby. "It was an accident, Skips," he explains apologetically. "Can you help him?"

"Let me see." Skips holds out his hands, and Mordecai hands him the mouse.

The little gray mouse blinks tiredly, laying down in the soft white fur of Skip's wrists.

A warm feeling unhinges Skips usually cold-hearted appearance. His shoulders sag and his lips curl back into a smile. His eyes drift downwards and gaze at the sleeping mouse.

"Skips...?" Mordecai says shyly.

"What?" Skips glares at Mordecai as if he's interupting something. "Oh, yeah. Don't worry, guys, I'll take care of the mouse."

"Thanks man," Mordecai sighs with relief. "I never knew you had such a soft side for wild animals."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Skips tells him darkly.

"We know your name used to be Walks," Rigby bursts out. He swiftly receives a punch from the bird. "Ow! What the heck?" Rigby scowls and rubs his shoulder.

"So, are you going to tell us a story, or...?" Mordecai rubs the back of his neck uncertainly.

"A long time ago, a dragon ruled the entire world. As black as midnight, the beast would roam the skies at night, lighting forests and fields ablaze with bright orange fire. It was a terrible time. Many heroes rose up and tried to defeat him, but the dragon was too powerful. All it took was a single breath of air from the dragon's nostrils to turn you into a pile of steamy guts."

"Ew." Rigby winced.

"For centuries the dragon ruled the earth and sky, day and night, never sleeping. Humans and animals became all but extinct. But then one guy had a plan. He had been living in the great icy caverns at the North Pole, and had never seen the dragon, only heard of his horrible deeds. He thought_, if the dragon never comes here, maybe that's because ice is his weakness_. So he climbed out of his cavern and packed as much ice and snow into his backpack as he could carry and walked all the way to the edge of the North Pole. "

"There's an edge?" Rigby asks.

"He went all by himself? How long did it take him?" Mordecai wonders.

"Just listen to the story," Skips retorts. Mordecai and Rigby fall silent. Skip goes on. "At the edge of the North Pole, the earth drops straight down thousands of feet before circling back around to the other side of the world. But if you fall from that edge, you fall into outter space and die.

"So this guy stood there at the edge, shouting for the dragon to come out and face him. He was scared, but he wasn't going to show it. When the dragon appeared from the fog below, the guy puffed out his chest to prove he wasn't afraid. Flapping its massive black wings, the dragon hovered just out of the man's reach.

"The man was no hero, but he knew that if he didn't try to stop it, the dragon would continue to ravage the earth until it was reduced to ash. He knew he could not throw the backpack and make it into the beast's mouth. He knew that any weapons he had would be useless against the dragon's iron-like scales. So this guy did the one thing he could think of. He got on the very edge of the cliff and dove off, smacking straight into the dragon's nose."

"Dude!" Rigby gasps.

"Then what?" Mordecai demands.

Skips smiles thinly. "The man started to slip from the dragon's nose, so the dragon opened his mouth and the man climbed inside and was eaten."

Mordecai and Rigby stare, their mouths hanging open.

"Is that it?" Rigby asks, feeling cheated.

"No." Skips glances down into his hands, checking on the mouse. It slumbers peacefully. "No," he says again. "Once the backpack reached the dragon's stomach, the acids burst apart the fabric, exposing the ice and snow. The combination instantly created a whirlpool of steam. The reaction was so complex and painful that the dragon could not stand it.

"Roaring and thrashing, it flew off the edge of the world and circled the globe, belching smoke and fire and crying tears of blood. At last, the pain subsided and the dragon came to rest on the sandy white shores of a beach. Exhausted from his flight, he laid his great head down and closed his eyes to rest for the first time in all his exsistance.

"The few hundreds of men and women that survived had been watching the dragon in the sky, and now that he was asleep, they ran towards him with swords and pitch forks and axes. So deep was the dragon's sleep, that he did not wake up until the people had apart his eyelids and began stabbing his eyes."

Mordecai's face is horrified.

Rigby licks his lips, waiting for more.

Skips took a deep breath. "They tore out his eyes, each one bigger than that golf cart, and sliced them to pieces. The people cheered. Red and green and orange blood pooled out of its black, empty sockets, the dry sand gulping it down. The dragon howled in anguish and threw itself into the sky, flying away as fast as it could. A black streak across a blue landscape, the dragon darted straight out into space and into the boiling sun, never to be heard from again."

"Woah," Mordecai shakes his head.

"What did that have to do with-?"

Skips interupts Rigby quickly. "I'm not finished," he snaps. "The people carried the eyeballs back to their town and built a shrine around them as a reminder. But eyeballs are meant to be in their sockets, so over the years, they dried out and whithered completely away.

"A little boy wandered into the shrine years after they had all forgotten about the dragon, in place of the eyeballs were two glass stones, one black and one white, each the size of a cherry. Taking the stones home, he became curious, and researched all there was about the dragon and wrote it all down in a story book. At the back of the book, he carved out two holes and implanted the stones into the leather binding. No one ever believed that those stones had actually come from the dragon, and no one was alive anymore that had actually seen the dragon, so the boy was branded as a fool and sent away from his town along with his family."

Mordecai and Rigby wait patiently.

"I have that book," Skips says dramatically.

"Really?" Rigby's jaw slaps open.

"You were the little boy?" Mordecai asks in awe.

"No!" Skips shakes his head. "I just have the book. It's cool piece of history, and it just happens to be mine."

"Can I borrow it?" Rigby asks.

"It's a _piece of history_, no, you can't borrow it."

"Aww, man," Rigby sighs.

Mordecai glances at his watch. "Come on, Rigby." He smacks Rigby back into awareness. "We gotta go get the cart back from Muscle Man."

"Alright, fine." Rigby pouts.

"Thanks again for taking care of the mouse!" Mordecai calls back as he run away, Rigby chasing after him.

Skips merely smiles, petting the tiny thing on the top of its delicate, soft head.

To Buck Tick: Wheeeeew.


	5. Chapter 5

Written by Buck Tick

Muscle Man, in his own leisure, drives the cart back to the park house, and parks. He gets out, carrying two plastic sacks full of shelled pecans. He laughs loudly in sudden memory, stomping up the porch steps, Hi-Five appearing by his side, giggling in his muddled voice.

"Did you see the size of his hammar?" exclaims Muscle Man, referring to the day's undocumented events. "My Uncle John really knows how to bust a nut!"

"And now we have enough pecans to make our pie!" puts in Hi-Fives happily.

"Oh yeah!" shouts Muscle Man, high-fiving the ghost.

Benson's voice comes to them from below. "Keep it down, you two. I'm trying to think."

"Huh?" Muscle Man turns in place, then looks down between the steps, seeing the gumball machine holding a book in his hands, with a notebook flat open with a pen tucked between the pages.

Hi-Five gives Muscle Man an odd look, and starts to speak. "What..."

But Muscle Man shakes his head, firmly. "Sorry, Benson." he says. "Just really excited about baking these pies."

"I know you are," says Benson carefully. "Now- where's the cart? Did you park it by the garage?"

"Yes." replies the Man of Muscles.

"Good. Thanks." Benson stands up carefully and gets out from under the staircase, clutching his book and notebook. He walks over to the cart and gets inside, where he dusts himself off. He looks up suddenly, his face distraught. "How do I look?" he asks.

Muscle Man throws up an upwards-pointing thumb and smiles forcefully.

"Ah, thanks..." breathes Benson, relieved. "I'll be back in two hours tops, so that means you are in charge, got that?"

"I got that." replies Muscle Man.

Benson nods, then drives away.

"What is up with our boss..?" asks Hi-Fives.

"Dude, sometimes its best not to ask questions, and just go with the flow..."

"Pie..?" encourages Hi-Fives.

"Pie!" shouts Muscle Man. They all but run through the door to get in.

"Did somebody say pie?" asks Thomas, walking over from the living room.

"Shut your mouth, Thomas!" scolds Muscle Man.

Muscle Man and Hi-Fives runs past him into the kitchen, leaving him alone. The goat sighs.

._._._.

Mordecai checks his watch and notices the time is 12:01pm. "Oh no. Benson is gonna be so pissed..."

"Pssh..." Rigby crosses his arms. "I didn't even know we had a time schedual..."

Just then, here comes Benson on his cart. He drives in the middle of the road, causing the bird and racoon to leap out of the way.

"Gaah! What the heck!?" yells Mordecai, picking himself off of the ground.

"Not cool, Benson!" shouts Rigby, shaking his fist.

The cart slows to a stop, then Benson gets out. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" he says, running over. "Are you- oh...it's just you two." His expression falls and he turns and goes back to his seat.

Mordecai's eyes light up with fury. He runs over and grab's the steering wheel before the gumball machine has a chance to go. "Dude, what's your problem?" he yells.

"I don't have time for this." says Benson, sighing.

"Do you seriously hate us that much that you wouldn't even care if you ran us over?!" cries Mordecai.

"Yeah, you made me scrape my elbow!" whines Rigby, scowling.

Benson puts on a look of surprise. "I don't hate you." he says softly. "Why would I ever hate someone who is so lazy and stupid in their day-to-day life that they can't even find the motivation to make their own beds, yet always manage to make the worse outcomes in life become the only outcomes there is?"

"W-what...?" Mordecai steps back. "Dude..."

"We've been through this before," says Rigby. He jumps up onto the side of the cart, grabbing onto one of the poles. He glares at Benson. "He's just having one of those moods again..."

"Oh yeah!" says Mordecai brightly. "Do you need to yell at us some more? Is that what this is about?"

"Are you constipated?" asks Rigby, looking sympathetic. "Have the squirts?"

"Gaaarh!" Benson shrieks, slaming his foot onto the gas. Rigby flies off and Mordecai catches him quickly before setting him down.

"Is it just me or is Benson more cranky than usual?" asks Rigby.

Mordecai frowns. "Something's wrong..." he says. "We have to find out what."

"Awh, what? He's probably just suffering from some stress disorder..."

Mordecai looks at the racoon quickly. "You know what, you could be right. I mean... I could never be a park manager and ...and have to put up with..."

"Put up with a Mordecai and a Rigby?" finishes Rigby.

"Yeah... Are we really that bad?" whimpers the bird.

"Maybe. But we do are best. It's not like we're quitters..."

The pair exchange glances, then sigh.

"Maybe he's just a sensative guy, and we've never noticed... And we've been hurting him this entire time." says Mordecai quietly.

"Yeah, sensative like Skips and Muscle Man..." says Rigby. They begin walking back to the house, knowing they'll need to ask around to see where Benson is headed to (if anyone knows), before they go off on foot to follow him.

"What did you think about Skips story?" asks Mordecai.

"I really wanna take a peek at the book." says Rigby, his eyes widening.

"Pit stop?"

Rigby stops. "But what about Benson?"

"One thing at a time, Rigby." snaps Mordecai. "He'll be all right."

"Yeah..."

The turn their direction back to Skips, becoming lighter on their feet. Sneaky.

._._._.

(To Rammstein: That's what you get.)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter by: Rammstein.

Mordecai and Rigby play rock, paper, scissors. Five times, because Rigby keeps losing. Mordecai dominates, and decides that Rigby will be the one to distract Skips while Mordecai sneaks in to steal the book.

"Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm," Mordecai nods triumphantly.

Mordecai sneaks around back while Rigby goes to Skips' front door. "Go dude," Mordecai hisses from around the house. Rigby groans then raps on the front door.

It is opened promptly.

"You again," Skips rumbles. "What do you want now?"

"Hey Skips." Rigby rolls his eyes. "I just wanted to see how that little mouse was doing."

"I let it go. It was fine."

"Oh. Okay then." Rigby turns to go.

Suddenly, a crash sounds behind them. Skips whirls around and sees Mordecai sprawled on the floor by a half-opened window.

"What do you think you're doing?" Skips demands, stomping over to Mordecai.

Mordecai scrambles to his feet. "Sorry, man... I... Uhh..."

"You broke my favorite lamp." Skips picks up the fallen light fixture and holds it close to his chest.

Rigby comes inside and stands beside Skips.

"Mordecai, dude, you're breaking into Skips' house?" He feigns surprise, clasping a paw to his mouth. "Not cool, man. Oh, Skips, can I use your bathroom?"

Skips gives Rigby a weary glance. "Yeah, sure. It's through there." Rigby thanks him and dashes off, following his pointed finger.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing?" Skips takes a step closer to Mordecai, who, intimidated, feels it necessary to back up.

"Uhh, uhh..." His eyes dart over to Rigby, who, down the hall, is sneaking into Skips' bedroom. "Just, uh... Checking to see if your house is secure." Mordecai smiles hugely.

"My house is plenty secure," Skips tells him.

"But your windows didn't have any locks on them or nothing, someone could-"

"_Nobody _breaks into my house." Skips takes another step forward.

Mordecai swallows. His back bumps against the wall, and his body stiffens with fear.

Rigby walks into the room. "How's it look out there, Mordecai? See anything you can't live without?"

"Dude!" Mordecai narrows his eyes, then grins shyly at Skips.

"What?" Rigby shrugs. "I'm just _bookin'_ around, _dragon _my feet."

Mordecai smacks himself in the face.

"Your obviousness is embarressing," Skips says, glaring at Rigby.

Rigby freezes, uncertain if he's discovered or not.

"I gave the book to Benson," Skip explains. "He's going to make a copy of it so people can actually start reading and understand our history instead of just looking at it behind glass."

"Aww, what?" Rigby frowns. "All this work for nothin'!"

"You two can't interfer with Benson while he's doing this," Skips warns. "If you distract him and he makes the tiniest mistake in copying the book, then he runs the risk of unleashing the black dragon's reincarnated soul."

"He can't just use a copy machine, or...?" Mordecai suggests.

"Ancient history needs to be treated with respect and dignity. Especially history in which many lives were lost. There needs to be a personal sacrifice to whoever makes the copy, and writing it by hand is the only way it can be done."

"So why didn't you just write it yourself?" Rigby asks.

"I didn't feel like it." Skips shrugs. "Plus Benson said he could use a break from the park for awhile. He went home to his apartment, so don't go there and bug him. Just let him work on his own. It shouldn't take too long."

"You got it, Skips." Mordecai nods. "Come on, Rigby."

He heads out the door, and Rigby hesitates before hurrying after him.

Skips slams the door behind them.

"Dude, Skips is pissed at you," Rigby whispers gloatingly.

"Shut up."

"So what do you think's gonna happen to the book after Benson's done copying it?"

"He's probably gonna give it back to Skips, duh."

"But... We won't ever get to read the original."

"It's not a big deal, dude."

"But those eyeball stones are in the back of the real one!"

"They're probably just rocks," Mordecai says tiredly.

"But don't you want to know for sure?"

"Rigby, enough!" Mordecai snaps. "It doesn't matter! I don't care about the stupid book any more. Benson is mad at us enough as it is. We're _not_ going to ruin this for him."

He keeps walking, leaving Rigby standing there, stung.

To Buck Tick: Oooooh dang.


	7. Chapter 7

Written by Buck Tick

The racoon stands there in the grass outside of Skips' place, wondering why the yeti told them about the dragon story, which happened to be the exact story Benson was going to copy. Clearly, Skips was secretly trying to tell them to _stop_ Benson from completing his task, right? Rigby places a hand on his chin. "Hmm..." he says, screwing his eyebrows together. "Skips said that there needed to be a personal sacrifice to whoever makes the copy...So maybe Bensno's sacrifice would be... Losing his job?" The racoon throws up his hads, groaning loudly. "All this thinking is hurting my brain!"

"One should not talk to oneself in public places." says Pops as he wanders over, pushing a push-mower.

"Hey Pops, what do you know about dragons?" asks Rigby at once.

"Not much, I'm afraid," admits the lollipop man. "I'm sorry I could not be of much help..." he turns away and starts walking quickly, cutting the already-cut-grass.

Rigby bounds forward. "Pops! Hold up, man! I need to ask you something."

"But I've already told you all I know..." sighs Pops, looking down.

"No, this is different." replies the racoon swiftly. "If Benson had to make an ultimate sacrifice, what do you think that would be?"

"Oh my..." The lollipop shudders in horror.

"_Without_ dying." groans Rigby, rolling his eyes. "Come on." he adds, watching Pops stammer in confusion.

Pops turns off the push-mower and frowns in thought.

Rigby stares at him impatiently, chewing his lips. "Well?" he presses.

"The greatest sacrifice one can make," answers Pops with wide, unfocused eyes, "is to give up the greatest quality that makes you who you are..."

"So what would that be?"

"Well, my little man," says Pops cheerfully. "In your case, you would lose-"

"My charming good looks?"

"Oh'hah hah hah!" squeals the lollipop, clapping his hands. "Oh," Pops wipes a tear from his eye. "You are lots of fun, Rigby!"

Rigby scowls darkly at him.

"Hmm..." hums Pops thoughtfully. "In your case, you would lose... your loyalty. You would no longer care about staying close to people, or having people respect you. You would be alone, and live the rest of your days confused and alone..."

Rigby stares at him uncomfortably, not sure to agree or disagree. "And what about you, Pops?"

"That is easy; I would lose..." his eyes widen tearfully, all cheerfulness lost in his voice. His bottom lip begins to tremble. "My one-ness with nature. I would ever again appreciate the blossoming flowers, or the laughter of the trees... I would not stop to listen to the birds, nor have the willingness to wake up before dawn to watch the sunrise..."

Rigby smiles weakly and lays a hand on Pop's arm. "It's all right, Pops..." After recieving a sad smile from the lollipop, Rigby asks, "So what about Benson?"

Pops places a hand on his chest. "His heart." he answers.

._._._.

"Sh'mells like pie up in here!" cries Mordecai, raising his hands to the roof as he waltzs into the kitchen.

"Just got outta the oven~!" sings Muscle Man, springing across the room in a brown Kiss-The-Cook apron. Hi-Fives laughs happily as he sets out two extra paper plates, then he stops and looks at the blue jay. "Where's Rigby?" he asks, sounding worrisome.

Mordecai shrugs. "I don't know..." he says. He sighs and plops himself down in a chair. He reaches over and drags a plate over to himself, muttering a thanks. Thomas is sitting across from Mordecai, and gives him a sympathetic smile.

Muscle Man slices a thick piece for Mordecai and gives it to him while Hi-Fives pours him a tall glass of milk. The Man pulls up a chair and sits next to him. "Talk to me, bro." he says deeply.

Mordecai sighs again and nudges the warm pie with his fork. A sweet-smelling steam rises from the center of the ooey gooey pecan pie.

Thomas leans forward. "Oh boy, that looks really good!" he says enthusiastically.

"Quiet, Thomas! We're having a moment!" yells the Man. "Go ahead, bro." he repeats gently to the bird.

"Well..." Mordecai looks at them. "Has...Has Benson seemed a little...Harsher than usual lately?" he asks.

"Harsh?" Muscle Man's eyes narrow judgementally, thinking Mordecai is going to speak badly about his boss.

"Strange." Mordecai corrects himself quickly. "Has he been acting strange?"

Muslce Man thinks back to Benson hiding under the staircase, with his notebook and his secrets. "No." he says flatly.

Mordecai looks to the ghost for reassurance.

Hi-Fives looks away quickly, feeling awkward. Not wanting to lie.

"He has seemed a little distant today." says Thomas slowly. "Like he's scatter-brained..."

Muscle Man throws a fat pointing finger to the goat. "You're scattered brained!" he shouts.

"Urrrgh!" moans Mordecai, holding his ears. "Stop yelling..."

"Where's Rigby?!" demands Skips loudly, skipping into the room, his nostrils flared.

"Rigby?" repeats Thomas. He strokes the wilted flower in his lap fondly.

"Why?" asks Mordecai. He pushes back his chair, standing. "Oh my gosh, what has he done now?"

"It's what he's going to do." replies Skips. "We have to stop him."

"What are you talkin' bout?" asks Muscle Man.

"I met Pops in the park. He says Rigby is going to find the take back the dragon book."

._._._.

(To Rammstein: That's for Woody's "phonecall" to Andy! Keep in mind it hasn't even been one day in this story)


End file.
